


Bungle in the Jungle

by Dame_Syrup (mary_pseud)



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Don't copy to other sites, Fuck Or Die, Kinkmeme, M/M, Threats of Violence, surprise superpenis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 06:44:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20223529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mary_pseud/pseuds/Dame_Syrup
Summary: For the kinkmeme prompt: Classic Doctor/Classic Companion- They are forced at weapon point to strip and have sex in front of everyone. Here's the twist: It's awkward and awful.





	Bungle in the Jungle

Jamie McCrimmon loved jungles: those of Earth and those of other planets. The rich smell of them, the way sunlight spotted and bounced through a thousand layers of plants and flowers before reaching the ground, the fruit and insects equally colourful and brilliant to the eyes. Flying reptiles or birds or mammals would swoop overhead, leaving behind trails of cries or perfumes. Jungles were so dense with life, so loud with the cries of animals; the very sweat on his skin seemed to feel more alive here. It was nothing like home, and it was wonderful.

He couldn't quite understand how the Doctor managed to keep from broiling, in his stiff black suit and long-sleeved white skirt. As for himself, Jamie savoured every draft of air under his kilt.

For that matter, there was no reason why they couldn't stop somewhere and take off all these sweaty clothes and have a bit of a tumble, now was there? Jamie stepped up closer behind the Doctor, following the line of his neck with fond eyes. He was such a good friend, such a good man. He was about to follow the touch of his eyes with the touch of a hand (running down the Doctor's back perhaps, or maybe taking his hand in his) when they were interrupted.

The green-and-blue jungle in front of them suddenly disgorged four blue-and-green people. Tall people, taller than Jamie or the Doctor by half, clad only in narrow green loincloths and carrying savagely sharp spears. They had three eyes set in a triangle in their rather lumpy faces, and all those eyes were locked on the travellers with interest.

"Come with us!" one of them finally demanded, and the other three let the butts of their spears pound against the heavy leaf mould under their feet. It seemed best to do what they said.

The aliens took them to a small village of some sort; bark-thatched circular huts, a small fire pit, and more aliens. Green and blue, looking very much like the ones who had caught them.

The alien who had commanded them to come stood in front of them, both hands clutching his spear. "I am Trabb," he announced.

"Well, a pleasure to meet you. I'm the Doctor, and this is my good friend Jamie."

"You will have sex now."

"What?" the two travellers exclaimed at once.

"You will now, to honour our gods, or we will kill you." Trabb stroked his two hands up the spear and then raised it; the bone point looked sharp enough to split a hair. The other three aliens who had caught them raised their spears as well, and there was a chorus of excited cries from the watchers.

"Kill them!" "Kill them!" "I'm hungry!" "No, make them have sex!" echoed the various cries from the other aliens.

"Doctor, what should we do?"

"Well," the Doctor wiped one hand across his brow, "I think we might have to do what they say."

"Well I don't want to," Jamie snapped. "It's no something to be done in front of strangers."

"We will kill you," Trabb promised.

The Doctor tried to reason with his captor. "Now look here, it's not – it's not mating season for us."

"He's not even a human, you know," Jamie added helpfully.

"You will sex or die!" Trabb howled, thrusting his spear at them.

The two travellers shared a long painful glance. Both of them wanted nothing more than to leave, but there was nothing they could do, it seemed, except what Trabb had suggested.

"All right, all right," the Doctor finally said. To Jamie, he muttered, "I think I'd better be on the receiving end for this."

"I don't want to hurt you," Jamie said, white-lipped.

"And I don't want to hurt you, my dear boy. But I doubt they've ever seen humans mate before. So if you just drape your kilt over my back..."

The Doctor turned away and bent over, letting his trousers slide down to bare his arse. Jamie raised his kilt, and his face brilliant red with shame and embarrassment, he pressed his groin to the Doctor's bared backside and moaned, rubbing against him. He didn't have an erection, and he didn't need or want one; his limp prick slid against the Doctor's arse cleft, getting pinched by the short dark hairs now and them. The pain of those pinches was nothing to the pain of having to do this in front of hostile strangers.

"No!" Trabb shouted, grabbing Jamie's shirt and tearing it along one sleeve. "All your clothes off, all of them!"

So they stripped, the sweet humid air suddenly sticky and horrible on their bare skin. The aliens pointed and exclaimed at how white their skins wore. Then they took the same pose, the Doctor bent over and Jamie behind him, and began their obscene miming again.

The aliens shrilled and gurgled and hurled insults about how awkward they looked, how tiny their pathetic genitals were, and what stupid children they would undoubtedly produce. The Doctor moaned; it was nothing like the moan that he made when Jamie held him, when Jamie was in him, and that was the kindest thing the Doctor could have done, under the circumstances. Jamie grunted in turn, miming a few more thrusts, and then stopped with a shout before he wore his prick raw.

The Doctor snapped straight, scooping up his muddied clothes and holding them in front of him. "There now, fine, shall we be going?"

Trabb looked unconvinced, watching with narrowed eyes as Jamie grabbed his clothes. Then he opened his three-sided mouth and hissed, and the rest of the aliens hissed as well.

"You sex as badly as you are ugly, you with your tiny parts! Go away, you stupid pale things! If you return, we will eat you!" he shouted, and bent to pick up a handful of trodden dirt.

The Doctor and Jamie took to their heels, running for the TARDIS, as the clods of dirt and mud pounded against their backs.

In the TARDIS, Jamie headed straight for the baths, and the Doctor did not follow. That was a relief. He put his clothes in the machine that would have them cleaned and dried in a few instants, and then he just bent over, hands over his face, his eyes clenched too tight to cry.

The shame, the embarrassment: he had never loved a man before the Doctor, and to have to do that in public, in front of a lot of aliens...and to have them mock him afterwards, pelt them with mud...he could kill them. Kill the lot of them!

But he wouldn't, of course. The Doctor would just leave this planet, leave them behind. Fine, let them stay here, miserable savages, stay here and stare at the stars they could never visit. He'd do a million things that they could never imagine, so there!

He rinsed off his face with cold water, and the rest of himself with lukewarm. He looked in the mirror; his face wasn't too red. So he put his shirt and kilt back on, and went to talk to the Doctor.

He was in the control room, looking at something on the viewscreen. "Tell me what you think of that, Jamie," he asked, and Jamie looked. His mouth fell open in astonishment.

Trabb was there, and the other three, without their spears. Around them were more aliens who were at least twelve feet tall.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" one of the tall ones said. "We believe that our children have been rude to you. Please, accept our apologies."

"Children? They're just children?" Jamie spluttered.

"It would appear so." The Doctor went to touch a control, and then paused.

"Before I go talk to them, I think I'll go get something to take with me," he said thoughtfully.

"A weapon?" Jamie suggested. Not that the Doctor believed in weapons, but he was awful good about having tools that could turn other things into weapons.

"Of a sort, yes..."

The Doctor went into a locked box in the wardrobe room (Section A, Floor Beta) and withdrew a small box labelled 'The Surprise – manufactured by Dr. Spengler's Erotic Curiosities, Terra, 2256.' The Doctor withdrew a small flat disk of flesh-coloured plastic from the box, and chuckling, went to talk to Trabb's parents.

They were profusely embarrassed and more than eager to try and explain. The people on this planet apparently called anyone too young to be married 'children'; Trabb and his friends were the equivalent of Earth teenagers. Restless, aggressive, and sexually frustrated teenagers, who had taken it on themselves to mock the travellers.

"They will be punished," Trabb's mother said severely. "They will have to do extra work, with no reward. They will not be allowed to be unsupervised for a long time."

"Oh, Mom," Trabb whined, in exactly the tone of an aggrieved Earth boy.

"You will learn not to insult strangers," she continued, her brows crinkling all around her three eyes in a rather spectacular scowl. "It is foolish and dangerous to taunt someone you know nothing about. Remember the story of the gremm who threw rocks at the sarpa-snake, only to find out too late its tail was around his neck! And to insult their sex is the worst of all. I raised you better than this! You do shame to us all by these acts!"

The Doctor nodded. "Indeed, and I wouldn't want you to go away with a false impression of us."

Trabb looked at the Doctor, who smiled a sweet sleepy smile as he continued.

"You see, you took the liberty of insulting the genitals of myself and my companions."

Without a word, Trabb's mother swatted him on the back of his head.

"Because it is not our mating season, we only had our secondary genitalia available. If we had been in season, we would have used these."

The Doctor slid his hand down and pressed a button on a small flesh-coloured plastic disc that clung like a limpet to his lower belly. Then he opened his trousers and unreeled the results.

Unreeled was right. What emerged from his pants was a phallus as thick as his arm, and with a great swelling head the size of two fists. Its plastic surface was remarkably similar to human flesh. It rose before him like an undulating serpent, swaying from his pelvis, writhing like a living thing, and when the head was about at the level of the Doctor's chin, it bobbed towards Trabb in a decidedly amorous fashion.

Trabb squalled in horror, backing away as fast as he could. He was stopped only by his mother's hand tight on his arm.

"You see!" she lectured him, turning him away and dragging him into the jungle. "Never take strangers for granted!"

The Doctor smiled, and touched the deflate button on the prosthetic. As it shrunk away and slid itself back into his trousers, he turned and stepped into the TARDIS, and closed the door.


End file.
